


Ohana

by wolfypuppypiles



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Cuddles, Father-Son Relationship, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Injury, Prompt Fill, Whump, Worried Tony, dad tony, for warmth and for love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 00:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17355572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfypuppypiles/pseuds/wolfypuppypiles
Summary: Maybe if Peter had known what it was like to have a big family he would have known that being babied by the Avengers meant that they loved him. Maybe he wouldn't have thought he needed to prove he was strong. Maybe he would have asked for help when he needed it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just gonna go ahead and apologize for this one because it ends on a cliffhanger and also because it's definitely not my best work. But I hope you like it anyway and there is more coming.

Being an Avenger was super cool, obviously. Being a superhero, working with other superheroes, getting to save people? It was a dream come true. Literally. 

But being the youngest Avenger was not cool at all. 

“Petey, come here. You have your sweater tucked into your pants again.” Pepper waved him over, leaving her own breakfast to fix his sweater and shirt. He’d been in a rush to get to school and evidently made a mess of himself.

“Oh, ha. Thanks.” Peter tried not to blush as Pepper’s gentle hands tucked his shirt in and smoothed out his sweater for him, smiling when she’d finished. 

“There you go. Have a good day at school.” 

Peter nodded and hurried off, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as he ran. 

“Woah, hold up there buddy.” Steve stopped Peter as he was walking out, reaching over the kitchen island to grab a plastic container. “Here, I made you lunch.”

Peter almost groaned but held it in at the last minute. It was nice of him to make him lunch but having Captain America cut your sandwiches into triangles for you was humiliating. “I get lunch at school, Steve.” 

The man smiled, nudging Peters arm with his elbow. “Yeah but you and I both know that your enhanced metabolism needs more fuel than other kids. I made your favourite and there’s some extra protein in there for you.”

He thrust the Tupperware container out and Peter forced a smile onto his face, taking the lunchbox and shoving it into his bag. “Thanks.”

It really was nice of Steve to make his lunch for him, especially because he was totally right about Peters metabolism. Peter got hungry at school so often that Ned had taken to hoarding food in his backpack in case his friend ever needed something. But that didn’t change how embarrassing it was to be babied by every member of the Avengers. 

“Have a good day at kindergarten, Spidey.” Sam reached forward to ruffle Peters' hair and he ducked it just in time, waving goodbye as he made it out the door. 

Peter was almost there, almost to the car for Happy to drive him to school when one last shout called out his name. “Pete! Wait up!”

Peter turned to see Mr Stark jogging towards him, face streaked with grease and hair stuck up in erratic tufts. “Hey, Mr Stark. Did you pull an all-nighter again?”

Tony panted, bending over to rest his hands on his knees. “Irrelevant. I need your help with the prototype. The lift broke and I need the car down.”

Peter pointed to where Happy was very impatiently waiting. “I have to get to school, can’t Steve do it?”

Tony shook his head, fingers tapping restlessly against his chest which meant he’d had way too much coffee already. “He can’t lift it the way I need. I need my Spider-boy. Come on, I’ll drive you to school after.”

Peter didn’t want to be late to class again but Tony treating him like an equal rather than a kid was well worth detention. “Yeah, sure. I’ll help.”

Tony clapped him on the shoulder and tugged him away. “Great! Hap, you go get lunch or something.”

Tony led Peter to the garage where his newest prototype car was waiting on a hydraulic lift, raised high above their heads. 

“Why don’t you just fix the lift?”

Tony grabbed a coffee cup from his desk, about to raise it to his lips when Peter plucked it from his hand, sipping at it instead. “I don’t have the part I need for-hey, are you even allowed to drink coffee?”

Peter inspected the machinery, finding the problem instantly. “I’m fifteen, Mr Stark. I’m not a kid.”

The ‘not kid’ put the coffee down and rummaged through his backpack till he found his web shooters, snapping them on his wrists as Tony rolled his eyes at his comment. 

“Whatever, just get up there and get my car down.”

Peter happily obliged, crawling up the wall to the ceiling where he stuck a web to the car and held on to the end of it, lifting the vehicle off the stand and lowering it safely to the ground. 

“There. Now, can we go to school?”

Tony grabbed Peters bag for him, struggling under the weight of all his books as he nodded. “Yep and we’ll make up the time. Don’t get your spider suit into a bunch.”  
Peter took his bag easily from Tony's hands and slid into the passenger seat, pulling the seatbelt across his chest, frowning when it wouldn't click. 

“Mr Stark, how far through are you on this prototype?” 

Tony looked over at Peters struggling fingers and quickly leaned over to do it for him. “Sorry, I had to design new seat belts that can withstand the speeds this car can go. If we’re going to use it for missions, it needs to be able to hold up under the stress. There.”

And just like that, the confidence from being treated as an equal disappeared as Mr Stark did his seat belt for him, tugging at the straps to make sure it was tight enough. Peter felt like a child and he slumped in his seat. 

“Thanks.”

Peter felt so inferior compared to the other Avengers was it any wonder he wanted to prove himself? Captain America took hits hard enough to kill a normal person and he still got up and kept going. Peter just wanted to be able to prove he was a valuable member of the team and not some intern or kid they needed to babysit. 

So, when he got knocked down during a mission, he may or may not have gotten up and kept going. Even though he thought he may have been hurt. No, scratch that, he knew he was hurt because Karen wouldn’t shut up about it. 

“Peter, you’re knee is-” He didn’t let her finish, blinking through the scans she was putting up in the corner of his vision. “I’m fine, track the car and give me the quickest route to follow.”

He was fine, sort of. He definitely felt like his knee had slipped out of his socket for a hot second and he was sure he’d heard something pop but it seemed to be back in place and everything was fine. Apart from the fact that it felt like it was on fire. But surely if something was really wrong it would hurt more, right? Probably. And by that logic, Peter should just carry on like it hadn’t happened. Or at least that's what he was going with. 

“Peter, you need medical attention or it’ll-” But Karen was not getting on board. 

“Karen, just give me a route, please! They’re getting away! And in case you’ve forgotten, they’re my biggest lead on that string of mugging and robberies!”

His scans swept away, out of sight, replaced with a map of the city with Karens planned route laid out for him. “I have provided the optimum course for success.”

“Thank you.” Peter took a few hesitant steps, testing out his knee. It hurt but it wasn't anything he couldn’t handle, so, throwing caution and Karens warnings to the wind, he climbed up the side of a building, following Karen's directions. 

The wind whipped past him as he swung from rooftop to rooftop, but he was distracted once again by Karen's scrawl in the corner of his eye. 

“Karen, what's that? Why are you sending a message to Mr Stark?”

Her computerised voice was as pleasant as always but Peter still felt betrayed. “Protocol dictates that all injuries and incidents be reported to Mr Stark.”

Peter swung across another rooftop, stumbling a little on his bad knee. “Karen, we’ve talked about this!”

“I’m sorry, Peter but I cannot go against protocol.”

And that is exactly why he and Ned had tampered with it and added their own. Peter smiled, cheeky and smug as he swung to another rooftop, being careful to land primarily on his good leg. “Karen, activate protocol “snitches get stitches’, please.”

Karen paused then, and if she had a face Peter would have guessed she’d be wearing the same expression May wore when she knew Peter was lying but couldn’t prove it. 

Finally, she answered. “I will not contact Mr Stark.”

“Thank you, Karen.”

:::::

“Yeah, so the rest of my night was kind of uneventful.” Peter sat in his desk chair, yanking his suit down to his waist with one hand while the other held his phone to his ear. 

“Dude, you took down the guys that were mugging all those people! I can’t believe they stole from a homeless shelter. How evil do you have to be to do that?”

Peter let out a soft grunt as he pulled his suit off, being careful of his bad knee. “I know, right? May and I made some casseroles and lasagna and sent them down. Hopefully, that’ll help cover some of what they lost.”

Ned sighed through the phone, knowing his friend well enough to know what he was thinking without him having to say anything. “You know its not your fault, right? And don’t give me any of that ‘it was on my watch’ crap. You aren’t responsible for everyone.”

It was Peters turn to sigh, quiet and tired. “I know, Ned. Thanks.”

“Okay, now status report.” Ned did it every night after patrols, making Peter tell him if he was hurt. 

Peter resumed peeling his suit off, hissing in pain when he moved his knee. “Something happened to my knee. I thought it was okay but its really starting to hurt and it's all stiff.”

Peter could almost see the way Ned would be leaning forward in his seat, ignoring everything else to focus on his friend. He always worried way too much. 

“What did you do to it? What did Karen say?”

“Karen said I needed to get it checked out but the Avengers already baby me, I don’t want to go over there and tell them I got a boo boo.”

“There’s a difference between a boo boo and being hurt, dude. And anyway, I thought you said they all liked you. Wouldn’t they want to help?”

Of course, they would but Peter didn’t want them to. “They already help with too much, it’s embarrassing. Bucky even did the soccer mom arm thing when we were driving yesterday-”

Ned didn’t see any of it as negative. “You mean he put his arm across your chest? He was protecting you.”

Peter was tired and sore and his tone turned distinctly grumpy. “Oh, yeah from a sharp left-hand turn. Thank god he was there. And Mr Stark has all these rules about what I’m allowed to do and how I’m supposed to do them. He even set a bedtime, Ned. A bedtime!”

Ned was Peters best friend, he was supposed to be on his side but Peter had a tendency to be reckless and if rules and curfews kept him safe then so be it. “Well, when is it?”

Peter groaned, shifting in his chair when his knee throbbed. It was swollen and sensitive and he just wanted to get some ice on it and go to bed. “I have to be back in bed by midnight and that's the maximum.”

“That's not so bad. You have to balance school and Spider-Man. If you went out till three in the morning every night you’d never get anything done in class. Mr Stark knows what he's talking about.”

Peter pressed a hand over his eyes as he lent back in his chair, annoyed. “I know you’re right, man but it's still annoying! Being an Avenger is my dream but all they do is baby me. Its like I'm not even a real hero. I can handle more than they think!”

“I don’t think its that they don’t think you can look after yourself it’s that they know even heroes can get into trouble. Mr Stark is a genius and he still got kidnapped and stuck in that cave remember? And Bucky was a soldier with Captain America and look what happened to him! They don’t want you getting hurt.”

Ned sounded worried and Peter rubbed a hand over his face. “It’s not that big of a deal, I get knocked over sometimes. I’m fine.”

Ned hummed, unconvinced. “Is that what happened to your knee?”

Peter winced. “Well, yeah. The bad guys may have...sort of...bumped into me...with their car.”

“YOU GOT HIT BY A CAR!? Peter, you have to tell Mr Stark! You have to get checked out!”

Peter hated when Ned was right when he didn’t want him to be. What was he supposed to say to that? ‘I don’t wanna?’ maybe everyone treated him like a child because he acted like one. 

“Fine. Alright, dude, I’ll go see Mr Stark.”

Ned, knowing Peter for most of his life and therefore knowing what Peter may be up to, checked just in case. “Do you promise?”

Peter held in a groan, a slight smile coming to his face as he remembered their pinky promises as children.

“Yes, I promise. Look, I don’t want to go tell him I got hit by a car because he’s going to freak out just like you have, but in the interest of not getting a lecture from you and every member of the Avengers, I will anyway. Happy?”

Peter could hear the smile in Ned's words, trying to cheer up his friend in any way he could. “No, dude, I’m not Happy, I’m Ned.”

Peter let out a small burst of laughter, feeling a little better despite the pain still throbbing in his knee. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Yeah but you love me anyway.” 

Peter rolled his eyes, words softening. “Yeah, I do.” Ned was his best friend, more like a brother, and he was always there when Peter needed him, no matter what. Ned knew Peter so well that he often knew what Peter needed before Peter even knew himself. 

“I love you too. Now, hang up and call Mr Stark.”

“Okay. I’ll call you later. Night, Ned.”

“Night.”

Peter hung up, finally smiling and feeling like he wasn’t so weighed down. And he was going to call Mr Stark, he totally was but he just really wanted a shower first. He was sticky and sweaty and gross and he just wanted to feel clean and cool before he went and saw Tony. 

He really should have just called. 

His knee was swollen and stiff, the whole leg refusing to take the weight as he stood so he hopped over to the bathroom instead, locking the door before sitting on the edge of the bathtub as he bent down to peel his socks and shorts off. 

He started the water, leaning one hand against the wall as he stood under the water, feeling the rush of heat sweep over him. He sighed, the calm puff of air quickly becoming a hiss, pulled in between clenched teeth as the water ran over his knee. It was so sore, even the skin sensitive to the touch of the water and it felt so heavy. 

He shifted on his good leg, foot shuffling on the floor so that he could reach for the shampoo, accidentally knocking Mays hair oil off the shelf as he did. “Dammit.”

It clattered against the bottom of the tub, spilling oil across the porcelain, splattering up across the sides. May wasn’t going to be happy. It had been her favourite. 

Thankfully she was working a double which meant he’d get to wait till morning to see that disappointed look on her face. Peter shifted, trying to find a less painful way to stand when his foot slipped, the oil on the bath sending him down and Peter crashed against the hard porcelain. 

He let out a cry as he went down, back and hip hitting the ground hard, pain washing over him as the water from the shower did the same, blinding him as it ran over his face. 

The shock from the fall winded him a little and he braced his hands against the sides of the tub, fighting to pull air into his seizing lungs. 

God he hurt just about everywhere, knee screaming and hip and back throbbing. He kept his eyes squeezed shut as the water ran over him, loud and pounding. 

It took a moment for Peter to get his breath back but once he did he got right back to business, forming a plan in his head. All he had to do was get up, get out and grab his phone. Then he could call for help. 

If only it were that easy. Even sitting up made everything ache and Peter but put a groan as he tipped his head forward, water cascading over his face and into his mouth. He opened his mouth gasping through the water as his instincts told him he couldn’t breathe and he tried to stay calm. 

Water filled his mouth and ran into his eyes and nose. And it didn’t matter that he could get a few gasps in between mouthfuls of water because it felt like he was drowning. 

He was losing his cool, patience disappearing with it and he grabbed at the edge of the bathtub, trying to pull himself up onto his feet. He almost got there, head out of the spray of water as he sucked in gulps of air, feet planted, but his knee couldn’t take the weight. 

His band knee gave out and he dipped down, hands instinctively grabbing the shower curtain, which was not strong enough to hold his weight. 

The curtain popped off the rings holding it up and Peter tipped back, feet slipping once more and he slammed back against the bath. 

His tailbone struck first, pain rocketing up his spine before his back and shoulders stuck and then his head. The back of his skull cracked against the porcelain, his lights snapping off in an instant. 

Peter laid there, unconscious, red slipping down behind his neck and shoulders to swirl down the drain with the shower water.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support and comments on the last chapter!!! I can't believe you guys like it? Thanks so much I hope this chapter is as good

Ned rolled over in his bed, trying to sleep but he just couldn’t. His mind wouldn’t shut up about Peter. Was he okay? How bad was he hurt? Did he actually call Mr Stark? 

Being friends with Peter was awesome but it was also frustrating because the guy had a hero complex the size of Texas. He thought he had to save everyone and be strong and brave and that sometimes meant he downplayed his injuries. 

Ned trusted Peter, of course, he did but he couldn’t help but worry and he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he knew he was okay. It had been a couple of hours since he’d talked to him, surely he was done with the doctoring by now. 

So, he rolled over and grabbed his phone off his nightstand, pressing speed dial. 

He sighed, holding his phone to his ear, feeling stupid. Peter was fine, he was probably already with the Avengers. He’d tell Ned he was okay and promise to see him tomorrow. Everything was fine. 

The phone rang...and rang...and rang until finally, Peters' voice came through, muffled and interjected with loud chews as if he’d recorded the voicemail message while eating Doritos. In fact, Ned knew he had been because he’d been there. 

“Hey, this is Peter. Uhh...I don’t check my voicemail so just text me or-Ned stop-“

Ned listened to his own voice interrupt, loud and close to the phone as he’d run away with it. “Peters a giant nerd!” 

The sound of them laughing cut off with a beep and Ned hung up, trying again. 

Why wasn’t he picking up? Ned listened to the message again, worry growing in his chest for each minute his calls went unanswered. And of course, he knew that there could be so many explanations as to why his best friend wasn’t answering. Peter could be sleeping, or busy with the Avengers. He could have left his phone at home while he was getting his knee fixed or he could just be too busy to answer it. 

But it didn’t feel like that. Ned knew it was crazy but something inside him told him it was true. Something was wrong. 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Something buzzed on the edge of Peters consciousness. It came and went, again and again, drawing Peter back to the light where everything hurt. 

He wanted to stay asleep, where it was quiet and cold...it was cold? Peter groaned as something hissed, loud and incessant. Pain wracked through him, nausea coming with it and he sucked in a breath, eyes heavy. 

His head was so sore, neck aching and stiff as pain throbbed through his skull and behind his eyes, nausea held back behind his teeth. 

The buzzing came again, barely audible over the crashing water hitting him, freezing cold and far too loud. Why was it so loud? Peter peeled his eyes open, blinking through his blurred vision and trying to work out what he was seeing. He was laying at the bottom of the bathtub with a ...was that the shower curtain draped over him? 

The water struck the plastic, making it ten times louder, almost covering up the sound of his phone ringing. That's what the noise was and Peter tried to sit up, finding his body too sore and cold and weak. He couldn't even sit up enough to see over the edge of the bath, legs curled up under the shower curtain, aching. 

He reached a hand out, trying to grip the edge of the bath but he was so cold his fingers were numb, fingers refusing to even uncurl from his palm and he trembled, freezing water still running over every inch of him. His phone buzzed again and he let out a whimper, knowing that if he couldn't get up, he couldn’t get help and he was already so cold. 

“Help...me.” 

There was no point in calling out for help. He was the only one home, with May at work. He’d gone home instead of the compound because his knee had been too sore to swing all that way but now he was wishing he had. 

“Help…” His voice was quiet and weak and his mind was sluggish but it slowly collected data from around him, coming to a dangerous conclusion. 

His hands were numb, and his fingers looked almost...blue? That wasn’t good and neither was the fact that he wasn’t shivering. Cold people shivered, if not it meant they were…

Peter bit down another whimper. He was hypothermic.

Peter couldn't move, he couldn't get help and he was already hurt and getting worse but there was nothing he could do. He couldn't even get up to turn off the water 

Peter felt a sob work its way up his throat, bursting out of him as he used his useless curled hands to try and drag the shower curtain further up his chest, giving him any sort of extra cover. 

There wasn’t anything he could do except hope that whoever was trying to call him would come to see why he wasn’t answering. The phone buzzed twice more before finally falling silent. 

Peter was alone. He closed his eyes, too tired to even cry as his mind slipped away again. 

::::::: 

“Dammit.” Tony cursed as he got his finger too close to the part he was trying to solder, shaking out the burnt digit as he carried on with his work. 

He had almost finished the part he was working on when his phone started ringing, vibrating in his back pocket. It was almost two in the morning, who could possibly be calling him?

He didn’t bother taking the phone out of his pocket, calling up to his AI, who was connected to his phone anyway. “Friday, whos calling me?”

The answer came right away but it was not what he was expecting. “Ned Leeds. Peters friend. Would you like to answer it?”

Tony frowned, putting the soldering iron down. Why would Ned have his personal number? And why the hell would he be calling at such a late hour? “Yeah, send it through.”

The call picked up, playing through the speakers in the lab and Tony called out. “Ned? Why do you have my number?”

A shaky, nervous voice came through, almost panicked. “Um, hi sir. Peter gave me your number for emergencies and I don’t really know if this is one but I’m just worried because I’ve called him four times and he hasn’t picked up and I kept telling myself he's fine but he said he’d call me back but he hasn’t so-”

Tony stopped the boy in his rambling before he could pass out. “Take a breath, kid. He’s probably just sleeping. Just like you should be.”

The boy paused for a moment before his voice came back as a squeak. “You mean you haven't seen him?”

Tony frowned, not understand anything the teenager was saying. “No. Should I have?”

Ned squeaked again, voice raising as he grew increasingly upset. “Yes! He got hurt on patrols and he promised me he’d call you! Did he call you?”

“No.” Peter had been hurt? Worry pierced through Tony's chest and he stood from his chair, hand running through his hair as his mind threw up horrible scenarios. 

“How bad was he hurt?”

Ned sounded like he was about to cry, voice strained and stuttered. “uh...he-he said he was hit by a car and it wasn’t so bad but there was something wrong with his knee. That was two hours ago. I made him promise to call you.”

Tony closed his eyes, pressing a suddenly shaky hand over his face as he tried not to panic. “Dammit, Pete. Okay, I’m going to go find him. It’ll be okay, Ned. Where did he call you from?”

“Home. Mays out all night, he’s by himself.”

Tony grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and ran out, shouting as he went. “I’m going to get him right now, I’ll call you back when I have him! Friday, let Bruce know we might have an incoming patient.”

“You got it, Boss.”

:::::::

Tony drove way too fast, way too recklessly because his kid was alone and in trouble and Tony knew that as sure as he knew Peter was okay he’d be kicking his ass. What kind of person got hit by a car and just went home? Hadn’t he told him a million times to tell him when something was wrong? Hadn’t he made it impossible for the boy to get hurt without Karen telling him about it?

Where had he gone wrong? Where had he lost the teenagers trust enough that Peter didn’t want to tell him when he was in pain?

Tony swerved around a corner, ignoring the red light he’d raced through on his way to Peter. 

The apartment was quiet when Tony arrived and he shoved the door open, calling out in desperation. “Peter? Peter! Where are you?”

The kitchen and living room were empty and he made it to Peters bedroom, spotting the Spider suit strewn on the floor and he scooped it up to inspect. There were no obvious tears or blood stains that had to be a good sign. 

But there was still no sign of the spider and he quickly made his way to the bathroom where something was hissing. “Peter?” He pounded on the locked door, listening to the loud rush of water.

“Peter, are you in there?” The shower was running but it was much too loud and there was no answer. 

“Pete, answer me right now or I’m coming in.” 

No answer. Tony stepped back and kicked the door open, stomach dropping at the scene waiting for him. 

Peter was laying in the tub, shower curtain pulled over him, water cascading over him. Tony ran in, words pouring from his mouth as he noted the closed eyes, pale face and blue lips. 

“No, no, no. Peter? Shit.”

Tony turned the water off and reached down, pressing his fingers to that pale throat, praying to whoever was listening that he would find a pulse. Peter looked dead but if he was if he’d- Tony sucked in a breath of relief, pressing a palm to Peters bare chest. “You’re alive. You’re okay, buddy. I’m gonna get you out.”

Peter didn’t move, blue lips slightly parted as water dripped off him, running down his cheek like the tear he’d be crying if he were awake. Tony grabbed a towel off the rack and pulled the shower curtain down to the boy's waist, draping the towel across his chest. 

“Everything's going to be okay, buddy. I’m here now.”

Peter was limp and frigid as Tony slipped an arm behind his back, pulling him up and using his other arm to wrap the towel around him. “Come here, kid.” 

The teenager was dripping wet, soaking the towel almost as soon as it was around him but Tony didn't care. He lifted Peter out of the bath and cradled him to his chest, carrying him to the bedroom. 

Peters' eyes flickered as Tony set him down, hand shoving into his pocket to find his phone. “Peter? You waking up buddy?” 

Tony pressed speed dial, holding his phone to his ear with one hand while the other rubbed over Peters' chest to try and rouse him. 

The call picked up after two rings and Tony felt almost dizzy with relief. “Bruce? I need you at Peters place. I found him in the bathtub unconscious and hypothermic.”

“What? Oh my god. How bad is he?”

Tony looked down at the kid in front of him, soaked brown curls stuck in loops across that pale forehead, lips blue and slightly parted with nothing but shallow puffs of air coming through. 

“Bad. He doesn't do well in the cold, Bruce.”

The line was silent for a second, fear making them both freeze for just a moment before Bruce spoke again. “I'll be there as soon as I can. You know what to do?”

Tony nodded, phone squeezed tight in his hand. “Yeah, dry him off, keep him warm, wake him up.” 

“Good. I’ll be there soon.”

Tony put the phone down, feeling suddenly very alone. Peters' eyes were rolling under their lids but he wasn't showing any other signs of waking up. 

“Peter? Come on, buddy. Come back to me.” Tony kept up a stream of nonsensical rambles as he stripped off his own shirt and sat on the edge of the bed, tugging Peters towel down to his waist.

“I'm gonna warm you up, kid. Everything’s going to be okay but I need you to wake up.”

His hands slipped under the boys back, preparing to lift him when he spotted a bright pool of red. Tony froze, one hand going to the back of Peters' head and coming back just as bright. “Are you bleeding? Why are you bleeding? God, Pete, what happened?”

Peter didn’t move, bare chest rising and falling so slowly Tony had to watch it for a moment to make sure the kid was actually taking in air. “Okay, you just keep breathing, buddy. I’ll do the rest. Come here.”

Tony slipped his hands under Peters frigid back and tipped him up to lean against his chest, arm wrapping around him. His warm chest pressed against Peters back and he shivered, hissing. “Jesus, you’re a popsicle, Pete.” 

Tony held the boy against him with one hand while the other grabbed the edge of the duvet they were sitting on and wrapped it around them. He pulled Peter close, turning him so his face could press to Tony's neck, small puffs of air against his skin letting him monitor his breathing. 

“Bruce is coming, kiddo. He’ll fix you right up, you’ll see.” Tony pulled the duvet right around them before grabbing his own discarded shirt and pressing it to the back of Peters' head, rocking slowly. 

“Everything’s going to be okay, Pete. You just...you have to wake up now.”

Peter didn’t move against him save for the slow rise and fall of his skinny chest and Tony squeezed him tighter, rocking the both of them. 

“We’ll be okay. Please be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it? Let me know? Last chapter coming tomorrow probably


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and support! You lovelies are the best! I hope this is a good ending

Bruce shoved the Parker door open and bustled inside, bags hanging heavy in his hand. 

 

“Tony?”

 

“Bruce? Hurry!” The reply came called from deeper inside the apartment and Bruce made his way through, spotting Tony bundled up with Peter, his wide eyes finding the doctors as he entered. “He’s so cold.”

 

Bruce dropped his bag and started pulling supplies from it, one hand shooting out to press against Peters' throat to check his pulse. 

 

“Has he said anything?”

 

Tony shook his head, rocking the boy back and forth in his arms. “He hasn’t woken up yet and Bruce, his heads bleeding.”

 

The doctor snapped sterile gloves on and grabbed an IV, pulling Peters arm from beneath the blankets and starting a line of warm saline. “What happened?”

 

Tony tried to keep calm but the kid he was holding was limp and so, so, cold and he could feel blood drip down the inside of his wrist from the shirt he was holding to Peters' head. 

 

“Uh...Ned, his friend called and said Peter had gotten hit by a car and hurt his knee. He’d probably been laying in that tub for hours before I got here.”

 

Bruce pulled the blanket away from the two a little, gesturing to the heavy bruising painted across Peters hip and thigh. 

 

“He must have slipped. It’ll be okay, we’ll warm him up and get him to the compound.”

 

Bruce held the IV bag up with one hand while the other gently prodded at the back of Peters' neck, carefully examining the bruises that lay across his skin. 

 

The poor boy looked like he’d laid down in paint, bright bruises stained across his shoulders and neck where he’d hit the tub. Bruce frowned and pulled his fingers away, grabbing a c-collar from his bag. “He fell pretty hard. I’m just going to brace his neck to be safe.”

 

Tony only grew more worried as Bruce placed the collar around Peters' neck, stabilising his head in case he’d injured his spine during his fall. 

 

“He’ll be okay, right?”

 

Bruce nodded, hands already on other things. “From my initial assessment, yes. He should recover, but I haven’t even managed to check his head yet.”

 

He pulled out his phone and pressed speed dial and speaker, tossing the device onto the bed so that he could talk and use his hands. 

 

“Yo.”

 

Bruce took out a penlight and gently lifted Peters eyelid, flicking the light back and forth as he spoke. “Sam, I need a stretcher and some heating blankets here at Peters.”

 

“Is he okay?”

 

The answer was obviously not yes if Bruce was asking for those things but the doctor humoured him anyway. “He will be. Bring Steve.”

 

:::::::::

 

Steve and Sam pulled Peter from Tony's arms and laid him down on the backboard as Bruce directed. But Tony wasn’t happy about it. 

 

“Are you sure that's necessary? Shouldn’t I be keeping him warm?”

 

Bruce watched Sam and Steve tuck heating blankets close to Peter before pulling the bright orange straps across his chest to keep him still. “He fell, Tones. Badly. He’s sustained deep muscle bruises, a concussion and what looks to be a badly damaged knee. We need to be careful with him.”

 

Tony nodded as Steve and Sam picked up the backboard and lay it on the stretcher, strapping that down too. “Bruce if Ned hadn’t called me if I hadn’t been up if I hadn’t gotten here-”

 

Bruce put a hand on his shoulder and led him to the door. “I know.”

 

::::::::

 

Tony stood back, watching as Steve and Sam lifted Peters backboard onto the bed. They were being as gentle as they could but it still looked so rough and Tony's hands shot out on instinct, only serving to remind him they were stained in blood. 

 

“Sam, go grab the oxygen. Steve…” Bruce gestured to Tony and the soldier nodded, making his way over. 

 

“You okay?” Tony's head snapped up at that and Steve amended. 

 

“I mean-I know you're not but what can I do? What do you need?” 

 

Steve was being his gentle giant self which made it really difficult to be mad at him. Steve hadn't done anything wrong of course but anger was easier to deal with than anything else. Tony wished he could have the burn of anger to fuel him rather than the worry that ate at his stomach. 

 

“I need him to be okay. I need him to not be blue, I need him to wake up.”

 

Steve offered a careful smile. “He will be, Tony. How about for now we just get you cleaned up?”

 

Tony blinked, looking down at himself. He'd used his shirt for Peters' head. How had he forgotten about that? His bare chest was slicked with water from holding a soaking wet Peter and his hands were still stained in red. 

 

“Thanks, Steve.” 

 

The first avenger had such careful hands for someone who’d used them for a hundred years and Tony let Steve wipe his hands and pull a warm hoodie over his head. 

 

“You want something to drink?” Steve rubbed his palms up and down Tony's arms to try and warm him but Tony couldn't keep his eyes off Peter. 

 

“No, I'm fine. How's Peter doing?” 

 

Sam looked over from where he'd been placing monitors on Peters' chest. “He's doing okay, his temperatures up and he's breathing a little better. Bruce is getting some scans ready so, Peter needs to stay on the backboard for now but you can come hold his hand if you like.”

 

Steve pressed a warm palm to Tony's back, urging him forward but he didn't need any encouraging. He made his way to the bed, trying to think of something to say. 

 

“Hey, buddy.” 

 

Peter didn't look like Peter. He looked like a doll or some nightmare version of the kid. Pale and damp, strapped down with his neck in a brace. Was it really the same lively boy from that morning that had lifted a car so easily? 

 

Steve tucked one of the warming blankets tighter around the boy as Sam grabbed a stool for Tony to sit on. Both of them busy and moving while Tony felt as frozen as Peter was. 

 

“You really scared me, buddy. You're still scaring me so, if you could just open your eyes or squeeze my hand or… anything, I'd feel a lot better.”

 

Peter didn't open his eyes and his fingers lay limp in Tony hold, but something else did happen. 

 

He started to shake. His hand trembled in Tony's, breaths stuttering as he shook. 

 

“What's happening?”

 

Sam smiled, palm pressing to Peters' forehead. “He's shivering.”

 

Relief poured into Tony's chest and he smiled, squeezing Peters hand in his. “There you go, buddy. Good job, I knew you were listening.”

 

Not caring who was watching or how sappy it was, Tony pressed a kiss to the back of Peters' hand, before rubbing his own warmed palms across Peters pale skin. “You'll be okay.”

 

:::::::::::::::::

 

Peters' head felt like a brick. If bricks throbbed. His mouth was dry to a painful degree and every inch of his body ached. God, what had he gotten into now?

 

“Pete? You back with us?” 

 

Peter hadn’t yet made a noise but he must have frowned because Mr Starks voice was eager and close to his side. The teenager managed to pry his eyes open, spotting the blurry figure of Tony looking down at him, a slight smile on his face. 

 

“Mhh...Mi-”

 

Peter winced, throat feeling as though someone had sliced it up while he slept and Tony quickly leaned over to grab something. “Here.”

 

Peter blinked again, trying to clear his vision as Tony leaned over him again, pressing something cold to Peters' lips. “It feels weird giving you ice after all that trouble we took to warm you up but I don’t want to try water with you laying down like this.”

 

The ice melted across Peters' lips, dripping onto his parched tongue and he gratefully accepted more as Tony fed them to him. Finally, throat feeling marginally better, Peter was able to get his words out. 

 

“W-what happened?”

 

Tony frowned, putting the cup of ice chips down somewhere, past Peters line of vision. “You don’t remember? I guess that's not surprising given how hard you hit your head. Do you remember going on patrols and getting hit by a car?”

 

Peter thought for a moment. The last night he’d gone on patrols he’d been chasing down those guys that...ah. Yep, he remembered. 

 

“I hurt my knee. I was going to tell you.”

 

Tony nodded, rubbing a frustrated hand over his forehead. “Yeah, Ned said you were going to except that didn’t happen did it, kid? Instead, you decided to ignore the fact that you could barely walk and had a shower instead of calling me.”

 

Memories trickled into Peters mind. Water, pain, freezing cold. “I slipped.”

 

Tony sighed, nodding. “Yeah. You went down hard and laid there for a few hours before I found you.”

 

Peter looked away, embarrassed. How on earth had he managed to screw up a shower? 

 

Tony mistook his expression for a different kind of discomfort and quickly reached for him. “Pete? How bad’s the pain? We can try upping the dosage of meds but-”

 

Peter tried to shake his head and reach for his mentor, to reassure him, only he found he couldn’t lift his arms or turn his head. “No, I...Mr Stark. I can’t-I can’t move.”

 

The mechanic didn’t seem as worried as he should have been at that statement, nodding as he rubbed a careful hand over Peters' chest to calm him down. “I know, it’s okay. You bruised yourself up pretty bad and everything's a little stiff. Not to mention you’ve been asleep for a day and a half.”

 

“What?!” Peter tried moving again, only succeeding in causing himself more pain. He cried out as agony lanced up his leg and he froze, trying to breathe as Tony tried to keep him still. 

 

“Peter, stop. Friday, get Bruce in here.” 

 

“Yes, boss.” 

 

Peter couldn’t hear what Tony was saying, too focussed on just breathing through the pain but when it finally eased he looked up to see Bruce leaning over him. 

 

“Hi, Peter. It's nice to see you awake. I’m just going to check you over. Tell me if anything hurts, okay?”

 

Peter didn’t dare even nod as Bruce’s gentle fingers slipped under his neck and gently prodded. 

 

“Ow.” Peter winced, face screwing up and Bruce mirrored his expression in sympathy. “I know, sorry. Pretty much everything is going to be tender for a while. You’ve got some deep tissue bruising across your hip, back and shoulders so, you won’t be moving about for a week or so-”

 

“What? A week?” Peter hated to be stuck in bed and Tony only rolled his eyes and Bruce nodded, fingers gently inspecting every vertebra in Peters' neck. 

 

“Yes, it takes a while to heal and even if you didn’t have the bruising to keep you in bed, You have a concussion, stitches in the back of your head and you’ve just been through surgery.”

 

That was way too much information for Peter to understand all at once and he simply lay still as Bruce explained. “When you were hit by that car, you hurt your knee, right?”

 

Peter didn’t move, just blinked up at the doctor and listened as Bruce’s fingers moved to his jaw, gently holding him still as he pulled out a penlight and swiped the beam across his face. 

 

“That pain you felt was your knee dislocating and your ACL and MCL tearing. I had to operate to repair it. That was yesterday. Now, it's in a brace until it heals.” 

 

Peter's eyes blew wide and Bruce nodded, putting the penlight away. “Yes, it is serious. Why wouldn't you tell someone about that, Peter?”

 

Finally, the teenager spoke, caught between the disapproving glares of Bruce and Tony. “I didn’t know it was that bad! It felt weird and then it was fine. I thought it was just a fluke.”

 

Tony crossed his arms, looking mad. “Karen told you it was bad and she tried to call me. You want to tell me why she couldn’t?”

 

Peter just wanted to go back to sleep. Mr Starks tone and level of anger clearly indicated that he knew exactly what happened but wanted Peter to say it. How cruel.

 

If he could have hung his head in shame laying down he would have. “Ned and I programmed her with a protocol to stop her from telling you when I got hurt.”

 

Tony grit his teeth, furious. “And why the hell would you do that?!”

 

Peter looked away again, voice quiet. “Please don’t be mad.”

 

Tony sighed at that, looking away as he pressed a hand to his forehead. “I’m not. I’m...I’m just disappointed.”

 

Peter tried not to whine. “Oh come on, everyone knows that’s worse.”

 

Bruce adjusted Peters IV before excusing himself to the other side of the room, tapping away at Peters charts. 

 

“Do you have any idea what it was like for me to find you laying there, blue and barely breathing? And what about Ned? He was worried sick about you! He’s the only reason I even knew to come find you, Pete.”

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

 

Tony’s voice wobbled a little and Peter felt even worse. “I had to call him, and your Aunt and tell them you’d been hurt. Ned cried, Peter. He was so worried about you and I had to convince May not to walk out of her job to come see you.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Tony sat on the chair next to Peters bed, where he always was when Peter got hurt. He let out a tired breath, shoulders sagging. 

 

“I just don’t understand why you would do this to yourself.”

 

“I didn’t slip on purpose.” 

 

Tony narrowed his eyes a fraction, too wrung out to humour the kid. “I'm serious. I can’t believe you would ignore Karen, ignore my rules, and just do whatever you wanted. You’re smarter than that, Pete. When you get hurt you ask for help. I don’t know what's so hard about that.”

 

Peter wished he could cross his arms but he knew it would hurt too much. “It’s not hard, it's just stupid.”

 

Tony froze. “What?”

 

Peter didn’t want to make him angrier but he also wanted to get it off his chest. “Everyone always babies me! You think I can’t do anything on my own. You have to watch me all the time and make sure I don't screw up and the others always treat me like a kid.”

 

“What others?” Tony was actually listening, eyebrows pinching in interest as he tried to understand so, Peter let it all out. Everything he'd kept inside. 

 

“The Avengers! I’m not a kid who needs babysitting or an idiot that needs help tying his own shoes. I’m supposed to be an Avenger but no one even trusts me enough to make my own lunch. Sam calls me weird names all the time and Pepper thinks I need help tucking my shirt in. Steve is constantly making sure I’ve eaten and...I just hate that I’m the one everyone has to watch out for. I want to be part of the team, not...not the baby.”

 

Peter didn’t know what he was expecting but it wasn’t for Tony to start laughing. “Peter-”

 

“It's not funny. You all think I’m stupid and that I can’t do anything myself. But it’s not true.”

 

Tony shook his head, suppressing his laughter as he sat carefully on the edge of Peters bed. “Buddy, no one thinks you’re stupid. In fact, it's just the opposite.”

 

Peter wasn’t convinced, watching Tony as he tried to explain further. “Peter, all those things that you think are bad? They just mean the Avengers love you.

 

“Do you know how many times I've tried to leave the house with my pants on backwards because I was so sleep deprived I didn’t notice? You know who made sure I fixed them? Pepper. And in case you hadn’t realised, Steve makes lunch for me too. He makes lunch for everyone that's just how he takes care of people. Sam doesn't call you names to make fun of you, that's just how he bonds with people. Tease him back, and you’ll see. I know it seems like we are targeting you specifically but...Peter, this is how a family behaves, they take care of each other.”

 

Peter watched as Tony’s smile slipped, eyes flickering down to his hands as he grew sad. “It took me a while to figure it out too. My parents weren’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type and because of that, I distanced myself from everyone in any way I could. But Happy, Pepper and Rhodey broke me down and by the time the Avengers rolled around I had finally learnt how to say ‘I love you’ back even if it wasn’t with words.”

 

Peter stayed quiet as Tony placed a hand on his arm, gentle as could be, voice softened to match. “I know its just been you and May for a long time now, and before that, with just you, May and Ben there wasn’t really any opportunity for you to be surrounded in family but...now you can. The Avengers aren’t just a team, Pete. Were a family and whenever one of us tries to take care of you that's just our way of saying that we love you. You just have to learn to say ‘I love you’ back.”

 

Peter wasn’t quite sure he understood but he could see how hard it was for Tony to have the conversation at all and so he tried. “How do I do that?”

 

Tony shrugged, looking more relaxed than he had since Peter woke. “Let them take care of you, spend time with them. That's all any of us want, really.”

 

Peter wasn’t sure if he understood what any of it meant. How could babying someone be a sign of love?

 

But Tony was right about most things so, Peter kept an eye out for those signs and those silent expressions of love. And pretty soon it was easy to spot them. 

 

“Bruce said those bruises are going to hurt for a while but he said warm baths might help. You want to try?”

 

Steve watched Peter hopefully, wanting to make the teenager feel better. “I can’t get up by myself.” 

 

Steve immediately moved to the kid's side, offering his hands in permission. “Do you want some help?”

 

Peter was about to say no, he didn’t want Captain America to help him take a bath. It was embarrassing and silly and...that's when Peter remembered what Tony had said. He took a moment to look into Steve’s eyes and to actually listen to what he was saying and he found that Tony was right. 

 

Steve was asking because he cared, he was offering him help when he needed it and Peter really would like to take a bath. He nodded, carefully, and allowed Steve to slip his hands under the kid, cradling him easily and carrying him to the bathroom. 

 

The bath felt amazing, melting his stiff muscles and easing the pain of his bruises and Steve taking care of him actually felt really nice. 

 

“Awww is Petey having a bubble bath? Do you need me to make your bed and turn your nightlight on too?” Sam walked in, smiling, and Peter was very glad that he’d kept his shorts on in the water. At first, he bristled at Sam’s comment but then he decided to try Tony's advice. 

 

“Better leave it to Steve, I don’t know if you could lift me. Hey, where are you sleeping anyway? Cause Tony only gives out rooms to actual superheroes, right? What are your powers again?”

 

Sam smiled as he and Steve laughed at Peters jab. “Ooohh, that’s harsh, kid. And after I came here to give you something. Here, Bruce said it could help.”

 

Steve leaned into the bath and lifted Peter out as gently as he could, Peter too stiff to be of much help. Steve took the bottle and carefully patted Peter dry before smoothing the cream across his bruises, using as little pressure as possible. 

 

The bath and the cream made Peter feel much better but moving was still difficult and he sat patiently as Steve helped him pull a shirt over his head. 

 

“I'll get the knee.” Sam knelt, taking Peters brace and slipping it back on, careful not to hurt the teenager and Peter almost laughed at himself. If he hadn’t let them help he’d have been trying to dress himself and be miserable the whole time. In fact, the only reason he was so badly hurt was because he hadn’t asked for help. If he’d just told Tony right away that he'd hurt his knee he could have been fine on just crutches, but nope he had to have Steve carry him out. 

 

“Everyone ready for some fun? Not you Barnes. Twelve is too many broken controllers.”

 

Bucky frowned, looking at Steve for help and only getting a smile. “It's not my fault! Sams the one that keeps cheating!”

 

Steve placed Peter on the couch as gently as he could, Peters bruises complaining and pulling a whimper from him. Everyone went quiet at the noise, eyes flickering to their youngest team member but the only one that moved was Natasha. Her gentle hand swept quietly through Peters' hair, soothing him in an instant. 

 

She didn’t say anything, just lightly scratched her fingernails behind Peters' ears as if he were a pup, carefully avoiding his bruises and stitches. Peter relaxed, shoulders sagging as his breathing calmed and everyone went back to their bickering. 

 

“No, we always play crash bandicoot and I hate it! He looks ridiculous! Bandicoots don’t even look like that!”

 

“If we play Mario Kart again, someone's going to flip a table and we all know who.”

 

“I am not teaming up with Tony he eats all the snacks!”

 

Peter couldn’t move very much and yes, all his invented protocols had been removed from his suit but watching the team, his family, he found himself happy to be a part of it. Even if he was the baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it? I added another scene in at the last minute so I hope that scene with Steve taking care of Tony and Peter starting to shiver fit well. Let me know?

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for two prompts 
> 
> Do you think you could do one with Spidey where his kneecap pops out of place and tears his ACL and MCL but he doesn't notice until later because his kneecap pops into place when he stands up and it just keeps getting worse even with his healing until Tony or someone notices (based on my experience with me doing that lol) 
> 
> and 
> 
> Hey! Could you write something about Peter Parker involving back or neck pain? (I am a terrible person) Maybe peter falls and gets bruised really bad during patrol or something? I am also a sucker for father figure Tony as well
> 
> so I hope that this is okay. also prompts are still closed don't ask me to do one in the comments because I won't. anyway please let me know what you think?


End file.
